


Indestructible

by LegolasLovely



Category: The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Battle, Blood and Gore, Blood and Injury, Comfort, Death, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Orcs, Post-Battle, Reunions, Swordfighting, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-13
Updated: 2019-09-13
Packaged: 2020-10-18 00:03:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20629766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LegolasLovely/pseuds/LegolasLovely
Summary: Summary: After a battle, you can’t find Legolas and think him to be dead.





	Indestructible

**Author's Note:**

> {Warnings: Violence, battle aftermath, dead orcs, blood, injured reader, angst, but really just fluff}  
Mellon: My Friend

You surveyed the land, making sure every enemy had fallen. When you were sure of your victory, you hurdled onto your horse’s back and started triumphantly trotting in Gimli’s direction. 

“27,” you said, knowing no explanation was needed. 

You heard Gimli mumble something while he glared at you. 

“Pardon?” you asked.

“24!” he yelled at you. 

“A valiant effort,” you said just to rub it in a little more. 

You looked around for your friends who never roamed too far in battle. “Where’s Legolas?” you asked, excited to see how many orcs he had struck down. 

“I lost sight of him,” Aragorn said. You looked at him for the first time since the battle had begun. His shoulders were slumped and his brow furrowed, concern emanating from every muscle in his body. You knew what this meant. It was an unwritten rule of the Fellowship to never loose sight of at least one companion during battle. That way, help was never too far away and moments like these, of someone going missing, would never happen. 

You tried to think of a simple explanation but could think of nothing other than nightmarish excuses that only filled you with fear and dread. You looked to Aragorn, panic running through you. It was then that you saw him holding Legolas’ quiver, which the Elf would never go without. 

You leaped off your horse and ran over to Aragorn, taking the quiver from him. The strap was broken and bloodied. 

“Well, look for him! We’re not leaving here until we find him!” you yelled. Your voice was oddly strong, considering every inch of you felt weak enough to crumble away at any second. 

You looked over your shoulder and saw no movement among the dead bodies strewn over the hill. A moment ago, that brought you joy of victory. Now, you were praying to see something only twitch, for hope it would bring you to Legolas.

Though you tried to focus on finding your friend, awful scenarios crept their way into your mind. What would the orcs do if they had an Elven prince as their prisoner? If he lie injured on the hill, would you find him and get him to the healers in time? You would not allow any possibility worse than that to enter your mind. 

You returned from where you came, making your way down the hill, lifeless eyes meeting your glance with every step. The ground beneath you was wet with black blood and it was a relief to see no red. 

The farther you went on, the more his quiver started to shake in your hands. Your gut became an unruly pit of dread and despair and tears prickled at the back of your eyes, desperate to run down your cheeks. You refused to let them fall as if it would be admitting defeat and giving up on your friend. 

Legolas was your closest companion in the Fellowship and you cursed yourself for not keeping an eye on him, for not being there when he needed you. But you also cursed yourself for never telling him how much you cared for him. Now, what if you lost your every chance?

You were yanked from your thoughts by a huge, wet hand gripping your ankle. You fell hard on the ground and your free hand landed on a large, broken sword. The gash was deep and you hissed in pain. 

The hand that caused your fall was that of an orc, barely alive. It laughed at you, the sound disgusting and filling you with a deep rage. You rose to your knees and took the broken sword in front of you and rose it high above you. With a scream, you brought the weapon down on the orc, slashing its neck and severing its head. 

You threw the sword away from you and sat back on your knees, holding your wounded hand close to you. You closed your eyes tight and finally let your tears silently fall. 

“She’s over here! (Y/N), are you alright?” 

You looked up and couldn’t believe your blurry eyes. Legolas was standing just over the hill, completely unharmed. You rose to your feet and sprinted toward him. Without a second thought, you leaped into his arms and wrapped yours around his shoulders, gluing your forehead to the crook of his neck. 

You felt him tense around you. You knew hugging was a human custom, and most elves were uncomfortable with it, but you didn’t care a bit. All you could think of was that he was alive! Legolas was alive, well, and next to you in this moment. 

Sobs absolutely wracked your body. “I thought- I thought you were dead,” you managed to get out though it was muffled by Legolas’ skin. He relaxed and held you in the air, tightening his grip and resting his chin on your shoulder. 

You were breaking his heart. He had never seen you like this. He was so sorry he put his little human through this torment. He couldn’t believe you cared for him this much, to be so torn at the thought of him leaving you. He felt your tears against his skin and wetting his tunic. He rubbed your back and ran his fingers through your hair, attempting to make your ribs stop heaving and shaking. 

“I’m here, mellon. It’s alright,” he said. 

Legolas opened his eyes to see the rest of the Fellowship looking at the two of you in relief and concern. He shook his head in disbelief and continued to shush you. 

“She better be this upset when I die,” Gimli said softly. But you had heard him.

“Shut up, Gimli!” you said, hardly able to get it out, unable to take a deep breath. You felt Legolas chuckle.

Aragorn ushered your friends away knowing he could trust Legolas to care for you. 

After a while, Legolas felt you calm down, though your sobbing sent your breathing pattern into havoc. He set your feet on the ground but still held you around your waist. When your hands fell from his shoulders, you remembered you still held his quiver. He gratefully took it from you and attached the strap to his armor. With your hands now free, he saw a lot of blood gushing from the laceration on your hand. 

“You’re wounded,” he said. 

You only nodded.

“Come up the hill, I’ll wrap it.” Not waiting for your reply, he led you to a large rock where you kept your supplies. The entire way he kept his arm tight around you, as if letting you go would cause you to spin out rapidly into some kind of downfall. You were slightly embarrassed but were too exhausted to care. 

He sat you down on the rock and knelt in front of you, taking a bandage out of your sack. His nimble fingers worked gently to wrap it around your hand and tie it in place. When he finished, he held your hands in his and looked up at you from his spot on the ground. Even after a battle, his hair still fell perfectly on his strong shoulders. 

For a moment, you both sat in silence. 

“Where the hell were you?” you asked, anger laced in your voice. 

He smiled. He recognized the human phrase because it came from your lips quite frequently. 

“The leader retreated to the wood,” he said.

“And you followed it?” you asked. 

“Was I supposed to let it escape?” He sounded amused. 

You were at a loss. You would have done exactly the same and followed the leader into the woods alone. You took a deep breath. “Bring someone with you next time.”

“I will,” he said, squeezing your hands slightly. He rose to sit next to you on the rock, your hands still in his. “I did not mean at all to scare you, (Y/N).”

You knew that. You were all put in danger every day. You counted on his Elven strength to make him indestructible so you would never lose him. But today, shook you.

“You mean a great deal to me, Legolas,” you said. 

“And you, me, mellon,” he said. 

You stood from the rock. “Let’s go,” you said, nodding your head in the direction of the others. “I gotta go hit Gimli.”

Legolas laughed and followed you, putting his arm around you once more. “So how many orcs did you strike down today?”

“Including that last one… 28″ you said with a prideful grin. 

“A valiant effort,” he said nodding his head with a wicked grin on his face. 

You waited for his answer. 

He looked down at you, his bright blue eyes glistening more than usual. “32.”

You slapped his chest and groaned in disappointment. 

“Someday, mellon. Someday.”


End file.
